Grotesque Encounter
by Othnieltcs
Summary: A druid meets an unlikely partner for a troubling investigation.


Grotesque Encounter

A soft breath of air disturbed the stillness of the wood. It swept over the dirt in the small clearing and rustled through the brushes, barely stirring the cloak of the figure waiting there. It rippled through her brown fur, and she allowed a small smile to break her impatient stare. She did love the soothing feel of the wind in her fur. She even closed her eyes as the last of the breeze caressed her face.

"Napping already?" The harsh, gurgling voice seemed to disturb the very forest around them. Big brown eyes fluttered open to glare at the newcomer, the momentary pleasure vanished with the wind. What those eyes saw was female, but not pretty.

Slimy green strands of hair clung to a sunken face, yellow rather than white eyes staring with milky hunger. Pale green skin hung loosely around a stooping frame. Around most of the creature's joints the skin had rotted enough to expose dull, yellowish bone. It tilted its head in almost animal fashion as it was addressed by the much taller figure. "I was not given a name."

The bedraggled green figure wheezed a laugh. "Neither was I. But have no worries. I will be... cooperative. Yes? You may call me Rotreek."

The shaggy brown figure's frown grew deeper. "Rotreek?"

Sniffing the air, the undead woman shrugged. "Fitting, no?"

"You had no name while living?"

The pale green lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing brownish-yellow teeth. "What makes you think that weak, giggling, frivolous thing had anything to do with _me_? _Look_ at me! I - am - Rotreek." She spat the last words out with a bitterness almost tangible.

The shaggy figure hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Yes, I suppose you are." With that, she turned toward the trees.

"And you?"

The figure stopped and sighed. "Moughsi," she she said, turning her head slightly back toward Rotreek. "My name is Moughsi."

The green undead woman coughed out another laugh. "_Moosee_!? A female Tauren named after the sound a _cow_ makes, and she questions _my_ name!"

Moughsi could almost hear the Human children from her youth laughing with Rotreek, calling "MOO-see, MOO-see" over and over. She did not bother trying to explain what the name meant in her tribal dialect, but simply turned back to the waiting forest.

Rotreek shambled after her, still sniggering. "Perhaps this will not be so boring after all."

Moughsi had hardly thought woodland could be any more dark or foul than the corrupted glades of Felwood already were, but each step toward her current destination proved that notion wrong. The druids in Moonglade had not been sure what was causing this new corruption, but Moughsi had her suspicions. Goblins in general were not the most repectful creatures when it came to nature, but the one enterprise of theirs known as the "Venture Co." seemed to go above and beyond normal industrial disregard for the natural order. From the plains of Mulgore, her people's homeland, to the jungles of Stranglethorn - where the "Venture Co." went, so did corruption and abuse. She said as much to Rotreek, who only grunted and shushed her. Moughsi concentrated on finding some sign of the cause of this foulness, until she saw the Forsaken gesturing urgently up ahead.

"What is it?" Moughsi murmured softly when she caught up to Rotreek.

"Demons," the undead woman hissed.

"Are you sure?" Moughsi winced even as the last word escaped her lips, and the Warlock gave her the look such a question deserved.

Rotreek did not understand how such a huge, clumsy-looking creature could move through the woods with any amount of stealth. Clearly the supernatural powers of druids were many. She'd had her own orders, as well as some idea of what to expect here. That the druid was comparatively ignorant floated a number awkward questions through her rotten brain.

"Stay here," she said to Moughsi. It would be nice to get away from those big cow-eyes. What right did that Druid have to feel _sorry_ for her? Even Queen Sylvanas had her moments of moaning about undeath being such a curse, but Rotreek was determined to look at its advantages. Disgusted, she brought her mind back to the task at hand. The presence of Demons all but confirmed that this was the work of other Warlocks. This was fairly new, though, not the same coven that seemed to be causing more widespread trouble throughout Felwood. Interesting, that.

Moughsi leaned on her staff as she watched Rotreek creep on ahead. She was neither old nor tired, but Moughsi had found such presumptions about Tauren druids useful in the past. She did not need an explanation to realize her "partner" suspected Warlocks were in this area. Again Rotreek's movements reminded her of an animal before she disappeared from view. A diseased animal, perhaps rabid. How the Horde had ever thought to benefit from alliance with these abominations to Nature, she would never know.

Once again letting the stillness of the forest fill her and wash over her as she waited, she saw the Demon long before it noticed her. Another moment of stillness revealed a robed figure, who stopped to gesture to the Demon, apparently giving it instructions. Clearly she had not stopped far enough from their base to avoid the occasional patrol. Moughsi couldn't help being a little surprised that Rotreek had blundered so close, though, with her ability to sense Demons.

Her _Warlock's_ ability. One way or another, it seemed that Rotreek had betrayed their presence here. This was what came of trying to let her loyalty lie equally with the Horde and the Cenarion Circle. Ultimately, no one can serve two masters. Thinking of the possibility that Rotreek was in league with these Warlocks, Moughsi considered her options. Druids have a way of tapping into the raw emotion, the adrenaline-pumping fury of Nature's own wrath. For once, Moughsi did not even need it. She did not have time to send an alert, neither to the Circle nor the Horde, but with a bit of luck the Circle would know something was not quite right simply by the event of her death.

Before death, however, Moughsi intended to separate a few of these Woodland-corrupting Demons from this world. And, if the Earthmother smiled upon her, separate a few of these Warlocks from their own lives as well.

The transformation was not a slow one, but the sudden shock of it took some getting used to. In moments, Moughsi was softly padding her way through the brush on four brownish-yellow paws, her tail swishing as she stalked her prey just as a lioness of the Barrens would.

Stealth, surprise and striking with devastating swiftness - that was the way of cats. Moughsi had studied their ways exhaustively; having the physical form and abilities of a creature meant little without the knowledge to put them to proper use. Her paws' soft steps made little noise as she slowly circled around the demonic form of the Voidwalker. As with most creatures, its most vulnerable point appeared to be its head. Her claws came out as she reached a spot directly to the Demon's left, and her shoulder rustled a bruch as she crouched down.

That faint rustle was all the warning the Demon had. Seemingly from nowhere Moughsi sprang at it, claws slashing viciously at its eyes. Arms flailing, the Voidwalker did not even have a chance to utter a sound before it was down, its form vaporizing until only its heavy bracers were left on the forest floor.

Slithering along almost on her belly, Moughsi moved away until she could watch the spot where the Voidwalker had fallen in total concealment. Her ears stood up straight and stiff, straining for any sound that might suggest the Warlock saw through the trap.

She need not have bothered. The way the Human came crashing onto the spot, Moughsi could have been in plain sight and still caught him by surprise. He had not even stopped before Moughsi pounced. Her low growl made him turn his head just in time to fully expose his throat to her powerful jaws. Pausing only to shake some of the blood and gore from her muzzle, she disappeared again into the underbrush.

She did not think the Warlock had been patrolling alone, and it was not long before she found another red-robed figure. This one was more wary, moving slowly and peering carefully around her. Moughsi leaped up on the Warlock's back, knocking her face down in the dirt. Just as she brought her teeth to bear for the killing blow, however, an overwhelming sense of calm and peace washed over her. She switched back to her normal, Tauren form as she turned to look behind her, but it was already too late.

The female figure approaching Moughsi had a wide, friendly smile. Her hooves and the horns on her head made her look almost like one of those Dranei creatures, but the large, batlike wings protruding from her back announced her as a succubus. A tiny corner of Moughsi's mind knew all this, but the rest of her simply saw the most magnificent creature she had ever seen, and wanted nothing more than to please it.

"That's right," the succubus purred as Moughsi smiled stupidly. "Give mommy a kiss." The Demon pursed her lips, and Moughsi leaned in all too willingly. The only thing that stopped her was a small jet of flame that caused the succubus to yelp and beat at the burning fur on her legs with her wings.

The Demon turned, uncoiling her whip, but the spell on Moughsi had been broken. Roots broke up out of the ground at the Druid's command, wrapping themselves around the succubus and trapping it. Moughsi could see now that the source of the fiery attack that had saved her was another Demon, a tiny little imp which continued to summon fire and hurl it at the bound succubus. She was burning in several places now, and the smell was not at all pleasant. Moughsi's hands started glowing a bright green as she summoned magical energy. Her Druidic teachers had been uncomfortable trying to describe exactly what this energy was, or where it came from. "The physical manifestation of Nature's Wrath," was how they were content to call it. It did not burn, or freeze, but it was clearly made to do harm. She finally sent the "wrath" of the Earthmother toward the succubus, sending it away from this plane of existence.

The imp did not stop its mad, hopping dance as it looked up at her, its eyes rolling crazily in opposite directions. "Rotreek," it yelped at her before hopping past, its little wings flapping in futility. The Forsaken named by the tiny demon was indeed right behind Moughsi, staring at a mass of burns, boils and quivering flesh that used to be the other Warlock. What she had done to reduce a living creature to this, Moughsi already knew more about than she wanted to.

"Power, Moughsi." Rotreek spoke almost as if in a trance. "With enough of it, one can do _anything_. She shook herself then and looked up at the Druid, the familiar sneer coming back to her green, rotten lips. "Even you." A harsh cackle was wrenched from her throat. "Now let us leave this place."

"What did you find?" Moughsi told herself that evil means did not always produce evil results as they moved away from the mysterious coven's encampment.

"Besides a Druid in over her head?" Rotreek shook her head. "Very little, but enough for now. This coven is not associated with any group currently known - Horde, Alliance or Shadow Council."

"You know of all groups associated with the Shadow Council?"

"Of course not! And if we did, there would be no way to _know_ that we knew them all. Still, this coven does not appear to have been operating for very long. I hope I do not need to explain why new groups of renegade Warlocks popping up is a troubling thing."

"Renegade? Their practices and corrupting ways seem similar to the Demonic ways of the Shadow Council."

"Yes, but..." Rotreek sighed. "I need to be off to Undercity, as I am sure you have somewhere to be shortly as well. So let me give you a few parting thoughts that may help you realize why we Warlocks believe that the key to defeating groups like this is learning about them and their ways."

Moughsi frowned, but let the vile thing continue.

"The Shadow Council, my dear Druid, is still a threat and still causes a disproportionate share of trouble in this world. We are becoming afraid, however, that the Shadow Council is rather 'old hat' in the grand scheme of things."

"Obsolete?"

"Precisely. While they were great victories, and necessary of course, does it not worry you a little that Sargeras' vaunted Burning Legion has utterly failed him three times now?"

"_Worry_ me?!"

Rotreek waved her arms impatiently as they arrived at the road winding through Felwood. "If he were to give up on his demonic army because it cannot defeat the Horde or the Alliance, what do you think a creature like Sargeras would _do_ about it?"

"But Sargeras..."

"...is assumed to be vanquished. And the last time _that_ assumption was made, he turned out to have been possessing the most powerful mortal this world has ever seen. So before we part ways, dear, righteous Moughsi, here is a critical question that no one seems to be asking: if Sargeras were _not_ vanquished, what would he be doing and where?" Without another word Rotreek turned and headed south.

Moughsi knew she should be feeling relief at finally being rid of someone she disliked so much. But she could not help suddenly feeling very alone.

The End


End file.
